Posted on 07/18/2004 11:39:14 AM PDT by dennisw
July 18, 2004 LIVES When One Is Enough By AMY RICHARDS as told to AMY BARRETT
I grew up in a working-class family in Pennsylvania not knowing my father. I have never missed not having him. I firmly believe that, but for much of my life I felt that what I probably would have gained was economic security and with that societal security. Growing up with a single mother, I was always buying into the myth that I was going to be seduced in the back of a pickup truck and become pregnant when I was 16. I had friends when I was in school who were helping to rear nieces and nephews, because their siblings, who were not much older, were having babies. I had friends from all over the class spectrum: I saw the nieces and nephews on the one hand and country-club memberships and station wagons on the other. I felt I was in the middle. I had this fear: What would it take for me to just slip?
Now I'm 34. My boyfriend, Peter, and I have been together three years. I'm old enough to presume that I wasn't going to have an easy time becoming pregnant. I was tired of being on the pill, because it made me moody. Before I went off it, Peter and I talked about what would happen if I became pregnant, and we both agreed that we would have the child.
I found out I was having triplets when I went to my obstetrician. The doctor had just finished telling me I was going to have a low-risk pregnancy. She turned on the sonogram machine. There was a long pause, then she said, ''Are you sure you didn't take fertility drugs?'' I said, ''I'm positive.'' Peter and I were very shocked when she said there were three. ''You know, this changes everything,'' she said. ''You'll have to see a specialist.''
My immediate response was, I cannot have triplets. I was not married; I lived in a five-story walk-up in the East Village; I worked freelance; and I would have to go on bed rest in March. I lecture at colleges, and my biggest months are March and April. I would have to give up my main income for the rest of the year. There was a part of me that was sure I could work around that. But it was a matter of, Do I want to?
I looked at Peter and asked the doctor: ''Is it possible to get rid of one of them? Or two of them?'' The obstetrician wasn't an expert in selective reduction, but she knew that with a shot of potassium chloride you could eliminate one or more.
Having felt physically fine up to this point, I got on the subway afterward, and all of a sudden, I felt ill. I didn't want to eat anything. What I was going through seemed like a very unnatural experience. On the subway, Peter asked, ''Shouldn't we consider having triplets?'' And I had this adverse reaction: ''This is why they say it's the woman's choice, because you think I could just carry triplets. That's easy for you to say, but I'd have to give up my life.'' Not only would I have to be on bed rest at 20 weeks, I wouldn't be able to fly after 15. I was already at eight weeks. When I found out about the triplets, I felt like: It's not the back of a pickup at 16, but now I'm going to have to move to Staten Island. I'll never leave my house because I'll have to care for these children. I'll have to start shopping only at Costco and buying big jars of mayonnaise. Even in my moments of thinking about having three, I don't think that deep down I was ever considering it.
The specialist called me back at 10 p.m. I had just finished watching a Boston Pops concert at Symphony Hall. As everybody burst into applause, I watched my cellphone vibrating, grabbed it and ran into the lobby. He told me that he does a detailed sonogram before doing a selective reduction to see if one fetus appears to be struggling. The procedure involves a shot of potassium chloride to the heart of the fetus. There are a lot more complications when a woman carries multiples. And so, from the doctor's perspective, it's a matter of trying to save the woman this trauma. After I talked to the specialist, I told Peter, ''That's what I'm going to do.'' He replied, ''What we're going to do.'' He respected what I was going through, but at a certain point, he felt that this was a decision we were making. I agreed.
When we saw the specialist, we found out that I was carrying identical twins and a stand alone. My doctors thought the stand alone was three days older. There was something psychologically comforting about that, since I wanted to have just one. Before the procedure, I was focused on relaxing. But Peter was staring at the sonogram screen thinking: Oh, my gosh, there are three heartbeats. I can't believe we're about to make two disappear. The doctor came in, and then Peter was asked to leave. I said, ''Can Peter stay?'' The doctor said no. I know Peter was offended by that.
Two days after the procedure, smells no longer set me off and I no longer wanted to eat nothing but sour-apple gum. I went on to have a pretty seamless pregnancy. But I had a recurring feeling that this was going to come back and haunt me. Was I going to have a stillbirth or miscarry late in my pregnancy?
I had a boy, and everything is fine. But thinking about becoming pregnant again is terrifying. Am I going to have quintuplets? I would do the same thing if I had triplets again, but if I had twins, I would probably have twins. Then again, I don't know.
Murderous bitch.
Ugh. I was on bed rest with my now 11-year old son from ~15 weeks to the end. As far as I can tell, I've suffered no permanent ill effects. My employer also managed without me without facing financial collapse. Selfish woman.
and I might even start driving an SUV and voting Republican.
Did she ever decide who's fault it was? He absent dad, her mom, her friends, her cousins, her "what ever you say dear" boyfriend, the twins... I agree with her on one issue though. Don't get pregnant again. Get a tubal.
I have no idea how to reply to this. Cold-hearted, yep.
I desperately wanted identical twins when I was pregnant. I can't imagine having them and getting rid of them like that. Was her Manhattan apartment really so much more important than her children? I worry about the one remaining that was born. How will she treat him if he becomes inconvenient? How will she explain what she did to his siblings?
Awfully considerate of the murderer. Not wanting to disturb her fellow patrons she answers her phone in the lobby.
Oh yeah. Helluva mother she'll be. Wonder if she'll ever tell the kid his siblings were killed in the womb. And every woman should have an abortionist.
In my opinion she is too very scary person to be allowed to lecture to young people.
And her boyfriend . . . what a _____!
He'll always know that if he were inconvenient, she would have killed him too.
It's sad that the woman was in that fix, and she faced a difficult decision. But if she was that ill-prepared and unsuited to raise more than one child, she could have placed the other two babies up for adoption. There are a number of married couples unable to have children who want them. Was she so clueless that than termination was the only option that occured to her?
Tubal, hell. She should ask her doctor for a cranial ligation.
I wasn't concerned about her
Utterly horrifying.
Wow! I'm stunned! She's right about one thing though. I believe she will live to regret her decision!
I find it equally repugnant that the doctor "helped" her through her "trauma". I guess they don't take that oath of "do no harm" very seriously, do they?
I suspect the doctor was well paid for his or her fell "service".
"Is it possible to get rid of one of them? Or two of them?'' GET RID OF?
But now I'm going to have to move to Staten Island. I'll never leave my house because I'll have to care for these children. I'll have to start shopping only at Costco and buying big jars of mayonnaise. OH THE HUMANITY!
The procedure involves a shot of potassium chloride to the heart of the fetus. THE FETUS? THESE ARE YOUR BABIES WE ARE TALKING ABOUT!
Note how the concept of adoption never gets mentioned. Note how it's all about her "trauma" of carrying them (yeah, I'm a guy, and I'm sure it's difficult, but we're talking murder here). Note how his or her family helping out is never mentioned. Also note how no one is wondering what God wants.
So, pro-aborts, here's your poster child. Ya like how it looks?
God offered me the chance to be the mother to 3 children... I slaughtered 2 of them in the womb, and I feel good about that... aren't I a good little feminazi.
Cold hearted selifish murderous bitch. And that's about the kindest thing I can think to call her.
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